South Carolina Swamp Turkey

by Mark Hoke
Zink Calls Pro Staff
4 April 2009

Vital statistics
Weight - #20
Beard - 10 inches
Spurs - 1 inches

While hunting South Carolina, Mark Hoke and I had let the same longbeard walk out of gun range several times. He wasn't the biggest tom we'd ever chased, but for some reason he intrigued us; this bird was smart. Every night he would roost in the middle of a seemingly impenetrable deep-water swamp so full of snakes and mosquitoes it was almost impossible to get to him.

Unable to coax the bird out of the swamp, we decided we'd try another tactic. So on our second afternoon, we started in. After handling many obstacles, we finally made our way to the middle of the swamp, where we found a nice-sized opening - the bird's comfort zone!

Aside a tree large enough to hide both of us, Mark and I got the camera gear positioned. We knew that old swamp gobbler would pass close on his way to roost; sure enough, he did just that. About 45 minutes before dark, I heard that sneaky bird easing through the thicket behind us. He passed at 30 yards, and went to roost about 45 yards from our location. Miraculously, he never spotted us. Waiting until full dark, we weaseled our way out.

Long before daybreak the next morning, Mark and I made our way back to the big oak. My hour-long nap was interrupted by a thunderous gobble. Afraid to move, we watched as the old tom strutted on the limb, spitt'n and drumm'n the entire time. Following a fine 20-minute show, the gobbler stretched his wings in preparation for descent. That's when Mark hit him with a series of soft tree yelps. The swamp bird responded with a quick double gobble, released his grip on the limb, and launched himself - in the opposite direction! Thirty hundred fifty yards away he landed, almost precisely where we'd hunted him the day before. Fortunately, we knew the terrain well; a short strategy session ensued, and we were on the move.

Reaching our intended position, we set a single hen decoy. We assumed this was a subdominant bird, and as such had had his tailfeathers kicked a time or two. Mark's first series of yelps was met with a terrific response; his second, with even more enthusiasm from the old bird. The next time we heard him, he had cut some 150 yards between us - then, silence. Patiently, we waited - we knew this silent treatment was a tactic used by subdominant gobblers as they approached what they thought was a new hen. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heard the low-pitched spit 'n drum of a strutting tom. Then, the tail fan appeared, and as if on cue, the longbeard headed straight for the decoy. At 25 yards, I gave Mark the go-ahead, and our battle with the old swamp gobbler had come to close.